


Turn On the Light

by rivanyan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, dilf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3736180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivanyan/pseuds/rivanyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren tries to be a good father, but it's really hard when his daughter's best friend is the wet dream he never knew he had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn On the Light

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam and his sad anon.

             Eren tries to be a good father. He doesn’t know much about parenting, scratch that- he knows nothing at all. His parents are gone and therefore unhelpful, and are honestly the reason why he adopts a twelve year old at the ripe old age of twenty-three. He remembers the moment clearly, the silent drive to the orphanage on West Esther Road, phone clutched tight in white knuckles as he makes the decision he cannot turn back on. He doesn’t falter in the slightest even when he’s crowded from all sides by wide-eyed, lonely children. He doesn’t loosen his grip on the small hand clutching his as they pass through the door, smiling down at the little girl trotting alongside him.

             And it’s not as if he wants to change the adoption at all. He has the money and the time. Mikasa is the perfect child for someone unexperienced like him. He gives her his all, treats her with his best and more, and she accepts it all gracefully and solemnly, as if she understands the fumble of his words to be more than uncertain offerings. Eren tells her everything about her situation, because he won’t risk that ridiculous chance that his keeping it from her will blow up in his face like a teen drama novel. He tells her of his father’s illness, of his mother holding his hand as they look at Eren together for the last time. Of the realization of the way he could send his father off in peace by granting his desire for grandchildren, something Eren can’t do for him.

             He says this all to his twelve year old daughter, and she simply pats his cheek and waits for him to tuck her in, washing away his worries for the time being. After the murmured good nights, he stands outside her closed door, leaning his hear back and taking in a shuddering breath. He’s hit with a strange stillness, the clock in the hall now ticking to a different timeline than the day before. Everything in his life has shifted, and with a numb sort of realization, Eren knows that he doesn’t care. He’s on his own path now and although it’s not the sort he’s imagined before, he will look forward without turning back.

             Which is why he’s still standing in his house six years later listening to Mikasa’s friends tramp in after school, laughing in the careless way high school seniors do when it is second semester and they are essentially free. Eren’s been faced with this situation numerous times in the past, with Mikasa being extremely popular despite her think-first-act-second personality. There’s something different this past year and a half however that sends Eren skittering down the hall, away from the living room where he would normally great them all. He retreats behind his office door, closing it behind him only to have his heartbeat rush up to fill the silence that follows. There’s not even a need to check the faces piling into his house, and Eren knows that for his safety he should not, cannot leave this room.

             So he sits in his chair, tense thighs pressing into the leather, and stares blankly at the glare of the computer screen buzzing in front of him. He is only too aware of the muffled voices and laughter echoing in the kitchen as the kids rummage around for food, right hand tightening uselessly over his computer mouse every time footsteps seem to head in the direction of his office.

             He used to go out there and chat with them, easing into the simple laughter and jokes that he misses from a time that is honestly not too long ago. Mikasa’s friends were all too willing to talk with him, this cool dad who was more like an older brother than a father. Eren used to be proud of this, happy that his daughter would send him a small smile each time someone commented like that.

             Until _him_. Eren brings his sweaty palms down to clutch his jeans, wondering why he’s even thinking about this, but him being here always makes Eren think about things, and he really has to come to terms with the fact that he’s harboring a secret fucking _crush_ on a teenager.

             He wouldn’t be so screwed if the boy wasn’t the embodiment of the wet dream he never knew he had. Who else but a teenager could fuck him, come in him, ride himself back to hardness in Eren’s ass to fuck him again? If Eren’s imaginings were anything to go by, this boy most definitely could. Who else but this boy could spear his heart through with a single dark glance, lips never quite twisting into a smile yet says his name just the right way to send him staggering with arousal.

             And then, if the boy didn’t, every single time he came over-

             Knock on the door.

             His voice rasps out of his throat. “Come in.”

             Eren wishes he has something to drink. So maybe he could choke on it and die and never have to face this problem again. And then the last thing he would see would be the boy in front of him. Like a damning devil. Romantic, Eren, real romantic.

             The door slides open softly, and a dark haired boy with even darker eyes steps in, clothed in an outfit that would befit a student going to a private school, even though his school is a public one. The first thing he says when he finally sees Eren poised stiffly in his chair is “Er _e_ n, why are you sitting in the dark?”

             As much as he loves the sound of the boy’s deep voice saying his name, especially with the way he drawls out the end, Eren probably should have made him call him Mr. Yeager instead so he wouldn’t have even more wank material. Also, why is he in the dark?

             “Hello, Levi. I, ah, I was thinking about something so I didn’t notice.”

             “Would you like me to turn them on for you?” Levi asks politely, the way he does everything around Eren, as if he’s a different person than the guy whose snark makes him just as popular as Mikasa (although Eren suspects it’s also his good looks, not that he was even looking). As if his dry comments that make the other kids laugh out in the living room as Eren escapes don’t belong to the gentleman that comes to his door every time to thank Eren for letting them use the house.

             Yes, please turn Eren on.

             He steps up to Eren’s desk, feeling under the lamp shade for the switch. Eren distractedly watches the press of his muscles against the white dress shirt. “Levi, you know you don’t have to come here. I don’t need your thanks.”

             Realizing a bit belatedly that he may have sounded a bit rude, he opens his mouth to speak again when Levi shrugs, locking eyes with him and whatever words he had dry up. “Maybe I want to come. Even if you don’t like it.”

             Eren wonders if that’s supposed to be a sexual innuendo and really tries hard to stop wandering thoughts. He shifts on his chair, breaking eye contact to look at the half open door, shouts and laughter filtering into the quiet room. “No, I appreciate it. It’s that you shouldn’t have to thank me, when you know you’re welcome any time.”

             The boy just looks at him with those dark, dark eyes and Eren thinks perhaps he shouldn’t have said that all, since he’s either told Levi to get the fuck out or practically exposed his feelings.

             Then Levi nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Alright,” he says and walks backwards, shutting the door behind him softly.

             Levi doesn’t come to Eren in his office to thank him anymore.

             Instead he drops by to ask him about his day, about his work, about mundane things that have Eren relaxing and dropping his guard. He still sits stiff in his leather chair, but somehow another chair from another room finds a home across from him. Good hosts don’t have their guests stand while they sit. He finds Levi’s steel blue eyes locked on him more often than not, as Eren indulges himself in these increasing moments. They laugh together, talk about Levi and talk about Eren, and it’s way too late when Eren realizes that Levi’s spent more time in his office these days than out there with Mikasa and her friends.

             When Eren almost shoves Levi out of his door, the boy plants himself in the opening, one arm pressed against the doorjamb and the other hand pressed against Eren’s chest, over his heart that is beating dangerously, traitorously quick.

             “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Er _e_ n.” Is all he says in Eren’s bright red ear, before giving the frozen man a small shove back, turning and shutting the door after him with a light click.

             Eren crouches there on the floor with his head in his hands until he hears them all leave, face burning and sinking deeper into hell with the fact that he’s fucking hooked on a teenager with the darkest eyes he’s ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on twitter @thighstraps if you wanna hear more trash.


End file.
